


Scission

by wedjateye



Series: Nascent [4]
Category: Firefly
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-08
Updated: 2010-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wedjateye/pseuds/wedjateye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inara has a way of tangling things up. Angst ahead. Part four of five in a series. Beta thanks to the ever wonderful Kispexi2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scission

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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Mandarin translations courtesy of The Firefly Pinyinary.

  
Wo de ma – Holy mother of God  
Don ma – understand  
Mei-mei – little sister  
Shen me? – what?

 

Simon crunches the numbers. Over two weeks since he and Mal started this thing. Five  
days since Mal kissed him in front of the entire crew. Almost that long since Simon  
started to feel comfortable seeking Mal out in his bunk without an explicit invitation. Ok,  
that last part isn't really true yet. But sometimes faking it is near enough.

Mal is sitting on his bed, watching as Simon leaves the tenuous safety of the ladder to  
approach him. Mal's expression is mild and Simon tries to quell the jittery feeling in his  
belly. Or at least encourage it into anticipatory flutters rather than this ridiculous, if  
insidious, fear of scornful rejection.

Simon's confidence rises when he  notices Mal's expression shift from mild to intent as  
Simon kneels on the bed to join him. Feeling emboldened, Simon pushes Mal onto his  
back and straddles his hips. Mal's breath catches and his lips fall just a little open. He  
puts one hand on either side of Simon's waist, resting them lightly.

"Off." Mal orders.

Puzzled, Simon shifts his weight to one side, lifting his leg. Mal's hands tighten their  
grip, stilling Simon's movement.

"Not you," Mal complains, tugging at Simon's shirt, "this".

Simon smiles and makes a bit of a show of it, undoing each button slowly, deliberately.  
Mal licks his lips, never taking his eyes off Simon's hands. Fastenings dealt with, Simon  
shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, leaving it to pool down his back, still draped around his  
forearms.

Mal sucks in a breath and holds it as he reaches out one hand, fingertips tracing along  
each of Simon's collarbones. The hollow at the base of Simon's throat receives a  
lingering caress. Simon can feel himself hardening. The look on Mal's face – absorbed,  
awed, is pulling at Simon's emotions, something expansive filling his chest until it feels  
as if his skin won't contain it. Simon starts to lean forward, stopped by Mal's other hand  
flat against his breastbone.

"Wanna look at you." Mal mumbles absent mindedly.

Simon starts to pull his arms out of his sleeves, getting tangled as Mal's hands continue  
to move. Sliding over pectorals, stroking along ribs, brushing over Simon's abdomen.  
Abandoning undressing, Simon closes his eyes. Mal places the fingertips of one hand flat  
against a nipple, eliciting a moan from Simon. Mal slowly begins to move his hand in  
small circles, lightly dragging the underlying skin along with it. Head falling back, Simon  
feels his mouth fall open as he shudders in a breath.

"How'd you get so ruttin' beautiful Doc?" Mal husks.

With an effort, Simon drags his head forward to look at Mal. "You're not bad yourself."

"Not like you." Mal responds seriously. Catches Simon's eye and reddens a little. "I  
mean, c'mon, do you go use Jayne's weights when we're all asleep?" Mal is circling both  
of Simon's nipples now, watching mesmerised as Simon's skin flushes under his touch.

"You'd know if I did," Simon answers distractedly, "I'd wake you up on my way out…"  
he breaks off to groan as Mal sits up, replacing one of his hands with his mouth. "..since I  
seem to sleep here every night." Mal sucks slowly then drags his lips upward.

"What then?" Mal almost whispers against Simon's neck, using his tongue to investigate  
that hollow again, "Push-ups in the infirmary?"

Simon's laugh transforms into a gasp as Mal sucks steadily at the base of his throat. "It's  
all this sex Mal," Simon manages to reply, words becoming disjointed as he takes panting  
breaths. "It's the best..." goose bumps shivering along his stomach  "… workout…"  
shudder "..or so.." hips bucking a little "..they say.."

Mal pushes Simon back, crawling up between his legs to lie over him, kissing the corner  
of his mouth and flicking his tongue in to taste Simon's as he parts his lips.

Muffled against Simon's mouth, Mal breathes fervently, "Amen to that."

Mal spends an age kissing Simon. Not speaking at all. Soft, light kisses that trace along  
Simon's bottom lip before trailing along his jaw and down the side of his throat. When  
Mal's mouth returns to Simon's it is to capture his lower lip again, claiming a little more  
of it each time, nipping and sucking, breaking free each time Simon tries to deepen the  
kiss by tilting his head and pressing his tongue into the mix. Mal resorts to holding  
Simon's head still, one hand on his jaw, the other tangled in his hair, controlling every  
kiss, every lick, every nip.

By the time Mal pushes his tongue into Simon's mouth, he is rock hard and moaning with  
frustrated need. Hampered by his shirt cuffs tight around his wrists, breathless and dizzy  
from surrendering his mouth to other demands besides breathing, Simon's pulse beats  
insistently, filling his head and driving thought away as Mal thrusts purposefully against  
his tongue.

The feel of Mal's hands on his zipper drags a startled exclamation and an involuntary jolt  
upwards from Simon. He squeezes his eyes shut, desperately concentrating, because  
otherwise he is _not_ going to last. Not for a minute. Not for the few seconds it is taking  
Mal to wrangle his clothing out of the way.

The feel of hot breath against his throbbing erection almost undoes Simon. He swears  
softly against the strain of holding on then sobs with shock as Mal envelopes his length in  
one smooth movement. Simon begs incoherently. Calls on Gods both modern and ancient  
as Mal swallows and sucks, head moving languorously. Simon bargains with tensed  
muscles and sizzling synapses, trying desperately to forestall the release that is barreling  
towards him. Too soon it smashes home, momentum twisting his body into a painful arc,  
breath torn from his lungs in a howl that burns his throat. Eyes blinded by static, head  
filled with white noise, all transmissions ceased save one.

The urge to sleep is overwhelming. Mal's hand is stroking through Simon's hair and he  
feels warm, sated. Only the niggle of something bunched up in the small of his back mars  
his bliss. Trying to dislodge the irritant is difficult because something is restraining his  
wrist.

Reluctantly, Simon drags one eye open to find Mal smiling at him contentedly. "You're  
here?" Simon closes his eye, wondering where they are and what day it is.

"Where else would I be?" Mal laughs.

Simon tries again, dragging his recalcitrant brain back from its fuzzy nest, focussing after  
a couple of blinks on Mal's face. Mal is smiling as if he just had _his_ mind blown and  
somehow Simon knows that isn't quite what happened. Mal leans in to kiss Simon gently.  
"Seeing you like this, it's almost enough for me, just on its own."

"Almost?" Simon is sure he needs to wake up more.

"Yeah. Almost. I got urges too, not to mention a-"

"Well, you're going to have to fuck me." Simon says seriously.

"Why is that?" Mal raises an amused eyebrow.

Isn't it obvious? "Not capable of doing anything other than lying here."

"I can live with that hardship." Mal strips his own clothes off eagerly before pulling  
Simon's wrists up above his head, leaving them crossed limply, still snagged in his cuffs.  
He next positions Simon's legs but frowns when Simon can't keep them from flopping  
flat on the bed again. "Oh well," he muses, "have to be flexible in this 'verse." He lifts  
Simon's legs onto his shoulders instead, reaching for the tube under the edge of the  
mattress.

Mal still seems in no particular hurry, stretching Simon gently, using lots of lubricant and  
slowly adding more fingers. Simon would tell him it isn't necessary; he is so relaxed Mal  
could drive a train through there, but that would require words. Soon Simon is distracted  
by other things; like the soft sounds that surely don't belong in his throat, erupting with  
each spark from within. Bright flashes merging slowly together into swirls of colour  
across the inside of his lids. Sounds shifting imperceptibly into low moans, moans  
becoming panting breaths until he realises that Mal is inside him, rolling his hips with  
such a languid, rocking rhythm that Simon wonders if he is dreaming.

Mal has his hand on Simon's cock, leisurely stroking it back to life. Bemusedly, Simon  
realises that it feels as if his body is not his own. Maybe it belongs to Mal now. Maybe  
that is why Simon feels as if he is floating inside his own head, floating on a tide of well-  
being that seems only peripherally related to the rising tension in muscles and groin. He  
can hear his own voice, far away, drawling Mal's name with each new jolt of pleasure  
from deep within.

"Simon, look at me," Mal urges, "need to see you."

So Simon pulls his lids open, away from the scintillating colour show. Locks his eyes  
onto Mal's face, seeing his deep flush, the strain of holding to his controlled pace. Simon  
feels his own smile, spreading widely across his face, affection filling him with warmth  
that tingles all the way to his fingertips. Mal responds by gripping his erection more  
firmly, thrusting harder into him, rhythm speeding before it begins to break up into  
frenetic jerks. Mal throws his head back as he comes, body tensing at the end of a long  
violent shudder, Simon's name spilling from his lips as he pulses deeply into Simon's  
body.

Somehow Mal remains upright, hand resuming its purposeful slide after a few frozen  
moments, hips managing a few more erratic movements. Simon feels his own orgasm  
unfurling from deep within him, a steady, relentless tightening of all his muscles, coiling  
in his belly and groin, sucking his breath deep into his lungs, squeezing his eyes tightly  
closed.

"Wo de ma, _Mal!_" he yells hoarsely as he feels himself spurt over and over, Mal's  
hand milking him until Simon finally collapses, weakly pushing at Mal's shoulder until  
he lets go of Simon's oversensitive flesh. Mal moves to one side, pulling out of Simon  
before letting his weight slump down over Simon's body. They lie there for long minutes,  
sucking in deep breaths.

"Holy fuck, Mal, where did that come from?" Simon asks when he can speak again. Mal  
prises his lids open to smirk at him. "Never mind," Simon grins, "just make sure you can  
do it again some time."

"Glad to oblige." Mal mumbles sleepily.

"Oh no you don't," Simon orders. "No falling asleep on me until you help me get out of  
this confounded shirt and we both get cleaned up."

Mal pulls a face, and Simon thinks about telling him he looks adorably petulant, just to  
piss him off. He doesn't because, well, mainly because it is true and gorramit if that  
doesn't mean that Simon has it real bad.

~

"This all you need then Doc?" Zoe considers the list she is holding.

"Yes. I've prioritised it as usual. All the asterixed items are absolutely essential." He  
pauses for a moment. "I wish I could come along today."

Zoe frowns at him. "There's nothing here that we'll have trouble tracking down."

"I know…" It isn't the medical supplies that have Simon eager to leave Serenity. He just  
feels buoyed by the fantastic night he and Mal shared and doesn't want that  
unaccustomed feeling of lightness to fade. It has outlasted the twinge of finding Mal gone  
when he woke this morning. Time off Serenity is rare and precious. And if it meant  
Simon could spend a bit more time in Mal's company, that would be… pretty good as  
well.

"We've been over -" Zoe begins.

"I know. It's too big a risk with the Alliance presence." Simon tries to smooth his  
interruption with a smile. He feels the twist of it soften as Zoe graces him with one of her  
own.

"If wishes were horses, huh Doc?"

"Steak!" River cries, skipping into the infirmary. "Shepherd's going to make steak for  
dinner."

"Not quite River," Book corrects, following more sedately. "I don't think there'll be  
enough fresh meat for that, I'm just hoping to liven up my casserole."

River looks sulky. "Only need enough for six." She wrinkles her nose. "No, four," tilts  
her head on one side as if listening, "two? Not like I'll get to eat berries." She finishes  
with a disgruntled snort.

Book looks at her bemusedly before turning to Simon. "Just thought I'd see if you need  
anything off ship Simon?" He offers kindly.

"No, thanks, Book. Zoe has it all under control and Wash already said he'd get a few  
other things for me. I think Kaylee's getting everything River wants."

"And more." River huffs.

"What's everybody doin' in here?" Jayne growls from the doorway. "Me'n Kaylee is  
getting pretty sick of waitin' around for your sorry asses. Where the good gorram is  
Mal?"

"He'll be along in a minute." Zoe answers calmly, walking smoothly past Jayne who  
stomps after her out to the ramp, where Wash and Kaylee are waiting by the mule. Simon  
drifts out with River and Book. Might as well see them off. Not like he has anything  
better to do.

River gravitates immediately to Kaylee, wriggling under her arm and burying her face in  
her hair.

"I won't be gone too long sweetie." Kaylee cajoles. "You know I have to go and get  
parts… What was that? Well sure, lunch, a girl's gotta eat. Don't fret none, hodgeberries  
are in season on Pacquin right now, I'm gonna bring you back some, make up for you  
bein' stuck here."

"No point," River pouts, pulling away. She steps back pointedly, muttering under her  
breath, "won't listen." Kaylee rolls her eyes, looking both upset and a little annoyed and  
Simon decides that whatever is bothering River, Kaylee has already tried to fix it and  
failed.

After a good five minutes Mal comes stomping down the stairway from the direction of  
Inara's shuttle, just as the whine of its engines announce its departure. He has a pinched,  
angry look about his mouth and eyes. Not another fight with Inara, surely, Simon thinks.  
Weeks have passed since the last one. They have been so civilised, almost careful with  
each other.

"Let's get this show on the road." Mal says flatly, making meaningful eye contact with  
the mule's tyres. "Everybody be back by sundown. Doc," he flicks his eyes briefly to  
Simon's face before addressing the rest of his instructions to the floor, "make sure you  
don't open up to anybody who ain't crew."

"I know the drill Captain." Simon's tone is stuck halfway between miffed and reassuring.  
Whatever has gotten under Mal's skin is obviously going to remain a mystery till this  
evening at least.

Mal manages a half smile in Simon's direction. "Don't think I've ever left her solely to  
the two of you before," he sounds almost apologetic, "sure you can handle it?"

"Sometimes a thing gets broke, can't be fixed."  River intones solemnly. From this angle  
Simon can't tell if her wide-eyed stare is at him or Mal but he wishes she would take note  
of his glare and shutup. Serenity isn't going to end up damaged while entrusted to  
Simon's care!

Mal looks totally spooked; frozen in place for a couple of seconds, eyes locked on River,  
before he shakes his head. "Whatever. Anything gets broke you'd better the hell fix it  
before I get back. On second thoughts, don't you touch anything while I'm gone. _Dong  
ma?_ Don't touch _anything_."

Before Simon can regroup they are gone, crowded precariously on the mule, leaving him  
nothing to do but hit the release button for the ramp. Still feeling annoyed, he turns to  
River but the words falter on the tip of his tongue when he sees the bereft look on her  
face.

"Sometimes being a fugie has its advantages." She says cryptically. She steps closer to  
Simon and he thinks she may want a hug but instead she pokes his ribs, smiling now.  
"Another exciting adventure in sitting?"

Simon sighs, knowing he can never stay mad at her for long. "I suppose so mei-mei."

"Only if you can find me to make me sit!" she shrieks, off and running towards the living  
quarters, "catch me if you ca-an….."

Laughing at River's capriciousness, Simon takes off after her, sure that she can disappear  
as effectively as she wants. Maybe she wants to be found. Forty-five minutes later she  
has led him a merry dance over the entire ship. Popping up just out of reach whenever he  
decides to give up in disgust. He finally runs her to ground on the Bridge, capturing her  
in Wash's chair and spinning her around until she is so dizzy she threatens to vomit on  
him.

Simon collapses to the ground, breathless from laughter and River flops beside him.

"I should stay here anyway." Simon decides when he can talk again. "Keep an eye on the  
monitors. Since I'm in charge."

"Who said you were in charge?" River counters.

"I did, brat." Simon smiles.

"Just 'cause you sleep with the Captain." River sticks her tongue out.

Simon bites back the almost automatic retort. Nope, not going there. Not unless he is sure  
he wants to know.

"We could play chess?" He hopes the change in subject is smooth enough.

River rolls her eyes dramatically. "You'd have to spin me until I _was_ vomiting and  
then I'd probably, no, definitely still beat you."

"Good point." He only ever beat River at chess once, when he first taught her how to  
play. And to be fair, the very  next game she pointed out the erroneous interpretation of  
the rules that had bestowed his undeserved victory.

"I know!" River cries excitedly, running from the bridge and returning a minute later  
with a familiar box.

"Jacks? You want me to play Jacks? Well… why not. At least that's one game you  
haven't beaten me at. Yet."

To Simon's surprise it is fun and he is not half bad at it, having excellent hand-eye  
coordination. If he gave it anything like the serious concentration River accords each  
throw, muttering about angles and velocity, he might even beat her occasionally. As it is,  
he is content to come close a couple of times.

Simon can't remember the last time he and River spent this much one-on-one time  
together and he is enjoying it. He feels love and pride suffuse him. Seeing River in  
moments like this, it is easy to remember why he left his old life behind. Why he gave up  
everything and would do it again in an instant. She has meant everything to him for so  
long… though life has changed that. For both of them Even in the vacuum of space, stray  
molecules manage to attract each other.

"How are things with Kaylee?" The words are out, floating between them and Simon  
holds his breath, half hoping River will laugh at him or tell him to mind his own business.  
She has been so much better, surely that is answer enough.

River scrunches her nose up, considering. "Strawberry sweet. But… confused." She  
looks right through Simon. "She could have anyone she wants you know."

"Um -" Simon demurs hesitantly.

"You don't count." River counters quickly. "You're already that ache, that little fly."

"Um -" Simon isn't sure what River means but he is damn sure that Kaylee can't have  
Mal. Even if Simon were done with him. Which he isn't.

River looks right at him, a ghostly half smile touching one corner of her mouth. "She  
doesn't know yet."

"Know what River?" Simon feels ashamed, thinking about his own relationship when  
River seems to be troubled by hers.

"Everyone wants what they can't have. Even you," she sighs; "should have asked them to  
get glue."

Simon can't recreate the warmth of their morning after that. Eventually River leaves,  
disconsolate, saying she needs more sleep before tonight. Simon decides it's better not to  
ask.

~

Book returns in the early afternoon, lugging fresh supplies that soon have him  
transforming the kitchen with the heady aroma of what promises to be an excellent meal.  
Once he has the stew simmering gently he joins Simon on the bridge, bringing two  
steaming mugs of tea. They chat companionably for an hour or so, Book ruminating on  
his visit to the nearby Abbey and all the good they have achieved in the local community.

"You're not going to give up on saving the souls on Serenity are you?" Simon teases,  
feeling mildly unsettled. Is it possible Book is thinking of leaving them here?

"No." Book smiles peacefully. "I wanted to walk in the world a while and I'm still doing  
that, collating data as they say."

Simon relaxes. He has grown used to Book's enigmatic presence. He is a part of what  
Simon is beginning to acknowledge as… home. As strange as that seems. Simon has  
stopped imagining himself elsewhere. Serenity and her crew are indeed home now.

Book looks faintly regretful as he watches the emotions flit across Simon's face.

"What?" Simon asks eventually, "What is it Book?"

"I won't stay forever." Book answers. "There is too much I need to do before my time is  
up."

"Ahh." Simon feels the old bitterness flow through him again – a faded but familiar ache.  
The absence of all the things Simon took for granted before River's letter arrived.  
Freedom, a career pathway, choice. This is his life now - a series of reactions rather than  
deliberate plans. Maybe if other doorways were open Simon _would_ choose to stay here  
with Mal…

The com beeps and Simon checks the monitor to see Wash, Kaylee and Jayne, laden with  
supplies waiting for the ramp to lower.

Book's hand is warm on Simon's shoulder as he stands to leave. "Better go tend that stew  
before it burns."

~

"The sweetest I've ever had!" Kaylee enthuses to Inara, washing her present for River  
under the tap. "Not that I ate any without my honey."

"Only about a punnet." Jayne snorts.

Inara raises one perfect brow. She looks distracted to Simon and earlier he caught her  
staring at him, seemingly deep in thought, only to flush and look away when he smiled at  
her.

"I did not!" Kaylee refutes vigorously, "not after that huge meal at lunch. My belly's still  
complaining. Still looking forward to your stew though, Shepherd. It smells so…  
different. Did you put some exotic herbs in?"

"Just the regular ones." Book laughs at Kaylee's puzzled expression. "I don't go in for  
funny weeds myself."

"Hodgeberries!" River cries from the doorway, running to throw her arms around Kaylee.  
"can I have mine now?"

"Not now sweetie," Kaylee kisses her forehead, sliding the fruit into a corner, "dinner's  
all ready, we're just waitin' on the Cap and Zoe."

Inara fidgets a little then gets up to make some tea.

River slumps into the chair next to Simon and mournfully whispers "Not even one."

'Lambietoes, did you bring me a slinky dress?" Wash wraps his arms around Zoe and  
nuzzles into her neck in greeting.

"Why husband? Did you find some place you'd like to wear one?" Zoe deadpans.

"Where's Mal?" Simon asks.

"Contact insisted on having a few drinks to seal the agreement. Can't get the goods here  
until morning. Captain said to go ahead and eat without him."

Simon can't tell anything from Zoe's impassive expression. And is he imagining the  
tightening of her grip on Wash's arm as he opens his mouth to comment?

"Oww!" Wash pulls free, rubbing his bicep.

"You mean I coulda stayed out and got sexed an' drunk?" Jayne complains.

"Sorry honey, don't know my own strength." Zoe leans to place a kiss on Wash's cheek.

"Man can't live on stew alone Shepherd." Jayne half apologises in response to Book's  
glance.

Inara stands suddenly, drawing every eye. She seems overwhelmed by the instant hush,  
faltering before her composure returns, features smoothing. "I wanted everyone here for  
this. But I informed the Captain this morning and as he is unavoidably detained… I'd  
rather you all knew."

Kaylee drops heavily into a chair, looking pale, as if she fears some horrible news. "What  
is it 'Nara – you ain't sick or nothing are you?"

Inara smiles at her warmly. "No Kaylee. I'm perfectly well. I've just realised that much  
as I love Serenity, it is time for me to move on."

Kaylee gasps, one hand flying to her mouth. "No!"

"I'm sorry mei-mei. But there is still so much I want to achieve and in order to do that I  
need to leave." Tears shimmer in her eyes and she pauses for a moment. "I've made the  
arrangements, I'll be departing at our next stop. Shepherd, thank you for preparing such a  
lovely meal, I'm afraid I have no appetite this evening. Please excuse me." She hurries  
away, back ramrod straight, no backward glance.

"Lets eat!" Jayne interjects into the stunned silence.

Kaylee gapes at him then lurches from her chair, bolting to the sink, one hand clapped  
over her mouth, the other wind milling to clear the Shepherd out of her way. Destination  
reached, she heaves violently, dark purple berry remnants splattering the sink. River is  
only half a step behind her, pulling the hair back from her face, humming small soothing  
noises as Kaylee convulses again and again.

Eventually Kaylee slumps exhausted, and Simon eases her back into a chair where she  
trembles uncontrollably. Sweat trickles down her forehead and she feels overly warm

"Sorry 'lil Kaylee, di'n't mean to upset you none." Jayne hovers.

"I don't think it was you Jayne," Simon reassures him absently. "Kaylee, what did you  
eat today apart from those berries?"

"Eat?" Kaylee asks dazedly.

"She ate something bad?" Jayne interrupts.

"Could have been anything, food, or water, has anyone else been sick?" Simon replies.

"I ate the same lunch as Kaylee – hell, most of had the special - damn good ribs, I ain't  
sick." Jayne answers quickly. The rest of the crew answer in the negative also.

"Kaylee?" Simon prompts but she is clearly not up to answering anything.

"Water, huh?" Jayne muses, "wasn't planning on drinkin' any o' that tonight."

"Just help me get Kaylee to the infirmary Jayne."

"Sure thing Doc."

~

The transfer sets Kaylee off again though she manages to hold it until Jayne deposits her  
on the medbed. She dry heaves long after her stomach is empty, shuddering up the  
occasional trace of bile. The first couple of drugs Simon tries bring only brief respite and  
he finally mixes up a stronger cocktail.

Eventually Kaylee succumbs to the combined antiemetic and  sedative injection, curling  
into a ball on her side, arms clutched around her stomach. She falls into an uneasy sleep,  
moaning a little from time to time.

"No more pieces," River promises, stroking hair back from Kaylee's clammy forehead.  
"Just peace now. Peace before more pieces."

Simon hangs a fresh bag of rehydrating solution and slows the drip rate down. "You  
should go get some rest mei-mei," he tells River, "She probably won't wake for hours  
now. I'll watch over her for you."

"Not leaving," River replies, stubbornly thrusting out her jaw. Simon tilts his head to  
regard her, wondering what he can say to convince her. River mimics his posture  
perfectly. "Nothing. Nothing you can say."

Recognising defeat, Simon sighs. Perhaps he should think about getting some sleep  
himself.

"Good idea," River continues the one sided conversation, sending a shiver along Simon's  
spine, "before they come back to roost." She pauses for a second, listening, "too late. Go  
back to _your_ perch soon though. Has to fall out of it."

"Shen me?" Simon feels totally lost. Perhaps he is simply too tired to follow River's  
twisted thread. She really has been so much more lucid lately though…. And then he  
hears the ramp lowering. Ahh, Mal. Home to roost obviously. Hopefully in a better mood  
than when he left. Or at least not totally destroyed by alcohol and brooding.

After checking Kaylee one more time, Simon turns to go out to the cargo bay.

"Be careful!" River calls after him. She sounds almost frightened for him.

"It's ok River," Simon calls back to reassure her "It will only be Mal."

"Not only." River replies darkly, right at the edge of Simon's hearing. And she is right.  
Two figures emerge from the low lighting near the closing ramp. When did Zoe go out  
again? Was Mal really so far gone that he wouldn't have come back on his own??

Simon feels a prickle in the pit of his stomach; something akin to dread clutching icy  
fingers along his spine. He takes a few ragged breaths. Part of his brain is telling him that  
he should go help Zoe, check that Mal is alright. But  foreboding drowns it out; his legs  
won't move.

Zoe has her right arm around Mal's waist and she is obviously close to staggering under  
his weight. Mal doesn't seem to be helping to hold himself up much at all.

"Shouldna broke it Zoe" Mal slurs drunkenly.

Zoe drags him a few steps further forward, into a pool of light by the stairs and Simon  
can see the look on her face for the first time. He is taken aback, expecting the same  
stony expression she wore in the kitchen. Zoe looks sad. Sad and gentle.

"It's ok Sir," she pants, "that chair was evil, it deserved to be destroyed."

Mal jerks to a halt, pulling Zoe around to face him.

"No' the chair!" Mal sounds almost outraged, then is immediately distracted when he  
catches sight of Simon. "Simon! You're still here, thass nice…" Mal sways precariously.

"Mal." Simon's voice sounds unfamiliar to his own ears.

"I got him Doc. Nothing a good sleep won't fix." Zoe slides smoothly back into position,  
steadying Mal who seems to have lost all focus.

"Maybe I should…" Simon isn't really sure how to end that sentence. He feels hopelessly  
out of his depth.

"No." Zoe answers too quickly, meeting Simon's gaze for the first time.. "I'll get him to  
bed. You just make sure Kaylee's fine. Be ready to give the Captain some headache pills  
in the morning. Or not." The faintest glimmer of a smile crosses her face.

"If you're sure." Simon wavers, feeling cowardly but Zoe already has Mal climbing  
stairs.

~

River virtually shoos Simon out of the infirmary when he wonders back there, feeling  
lost. He lies on his bed for a while before climbing in fully clothed, planning on checking  
Kaylee again in a while. Simon tosses and turns in the bunk that feels much too narrow,  
before dropping off, exhausted. Jumbled dreams cut jaggedly through any hope of restful  
sleep.

Simon thinks he's still dreaming when Mal's warm weight settles on top of him, a hand  
stroking along the soft skin of his throat.

"Mmm." Simon opens his eyes to find Mal leaning over him, knees resting to either side  
of Simon's thighs.

"Shh." Mal whispers, the sound harsh in the quiet room. One hand draws down the  
bedclothes as the other continues its slow caress.

Simon frees one arm to cup it behind Mal's head, drawing him forward for a kiss,  
ignoring the unappetising aroma of stale alcohol. But Mal's hand freezes as it reaches  
Simon's jaw and he pulls back, grabbing at Simon's hand and pinning it to the pillow  
above Simon's head.

"Mal?" Simon doesn't recognise this mood in his lover. Isn't sure if he wants to know  
where this is going. But he doesn't resist as Mal shushes him again and captures his other  
wrist, pinioning them both with a firm grip.

"Kiss me Mal." Simon lifts his head, desperate for some reassuring warmth.

Mal mutters a half curse and leans forward, nudging Simon's head to one side to instead  
suck and bite at Simon's neck. High enough to leave a mark not easily concealed, hard  
enough to make Simon squirm in discomfort. The arousal that had flared in an automatic  
response to Mal's presence – his scent and heat, is fleeing now. Something is totally off  
kilter.

Mal breaks his hold on Simon's throat and wrenches his shirt out of his trousers. Simon is  
so startled he tries to pull his hands free, earning another mumbled curse as Mal forces  
his wrists back to the bed.

"Not like this." Simon cringes at the pleading in his own voice; at the horrible suspicion  
forming in his mind.

"Exactly like this," Mal growls, wrenching the zipper of Simon's pants down so  
forcefully that Simon flinches away from the sting.

"Mal, Mal, _Mal_." Simon's insistence is finally rewarded by Mal's gaze meeting his for  
the first time since he entered the room.

The words escape Simon  in little more than a whisper; "Not when you're thinking about  
someone else."

Mal stills, eyes unfocused, blank. Harsh breaths gust sour fumes across Simon's face.  
Then Mal's hand tightens painfully around Simon's wrists. Darkness twists across Mal's  
features, contorting his lips into a snarl, his eyes almost disappearing beneath knotted  
brows. Simon's heart scrabbles painfully inside his chest; a wild, broken thing.

Suddenly Mal lets go, sitting up so swiftly that Simon almost reaches for him as he  
lurches before regaining his balance.

"Have it your own way then Doc."

In a heartbeat Mal has slammed out of the room, leaving Simon to watch the door as it  
shudders and yaws on its metal track, wide open, empty.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
